"Was it mutual?"
This from a woman who works at the daycare we take our kids to two days a week.
The question arrowed into my heart as I stumbled into what felt like the millionth awkward conversation explaining that my husband and I live in different houses — different towns, actually — because we are separated now.
I still feel uncomfortable offering up the information, which I am forced to do at least once a day: co-workers, new neighbors, daycare lady. We have three children, so we are together a lot. Together, but separated. As a result, the separateness of our union seems to come up during the oddest moments and an explanation is immediately warranted. This time was different, though. It was the first time someone had the balls to straight up ask who initiated the separation.